Chapter Three

What was this captivating life form? Nuar should have been repulsed given how much she resembled a Sadirian. But then, all Earthlings did. The two alien species were genetically nearly identical. Thankfully, their cultures were vastly different.

Earthlings also tended to have more variance in their bodies, since they were created naturally and not genetically engineered. This female’s body looked soft. Her curves were distracting, as was the rest of her.

Her hair was lustrous black, thick and straight. Her eyes were a warm chestnut brown and seemed to spark with intelligence and…was it fury? That emotion would match the deep frown on her lips and the way her jaw was clenched tight.

She held a stick that was almost as tall as she was. A row of metal prongs topped her weapon.

Nuar struck his wristbands together as he approached her, the vibration of the metal reverberating through his body. He hummed a low note to activate their scanning function, then spread his arms, allowing them better access to gather data.

The female—he was certain of that at least—lurched back. She lifted the primitive weapon she held and brandished it toward him.

“If you’re looking for a hug, you’re barking up the wrong tree,” she said.

Her voice was low and had a rasp that set his spine plates tingling. He tried to process what she was saying, the language imprinted in his mind having trouble with the idiomatic expression.

Barking was the sound dogs made. He knew that because of his interactions with his Earth-friend Buddy’s dog. Why would a dog bark up any tree? Unless perhaps they had cornered an opponent in one.

He understood why she might think he sought a hug, with his arms outstretched as they were. What he didn’t understand was why he actually liked the idea of holding her.

He stopped when they were close. Instead of lifting her weapon to strike him, she lowered it a bit.

Her chest rose and fell with quick breaths and her full lips parted as she stared at him. His spine plates started to rise and his groin tightened.

A hologram of her readings appeared above his right wristband. It took effort to look away from her to interpret them.

Her circulatory system was racing. Neural activity was higher than expected for either species she might be. Blood flow was increasing to her face, neck, breasts, and between her legs.

Interesting, especially given his response to her.

The female glanced over at the hologram, her lips snapping back to a frown. She struck his wristband with her weapon, scattering the image.

“Hey, that’s private,” she said.

“I’m a medic.”

She lifted the weapon higher. “You’re not my medic, so back off.”

“Do you believe that puny little stick will work against me?”

“It won’t have to,” she said, smirking.

Four strong hands clamped on Nuar’s arms and spun him around.

“Remember me?” Craig stepped in close and head butted Nuar.

Nuar staggered, but managed to grab two of Craig’s arms. He threw himself backward, taking Craig with him. Nuar planted his feet in Craig’s stomach and flipped his huge opponent over his head.

Unfortunately, Craig had two more arms. The Lyrian dug his fingers into the soil, gouging deep furrows as he stopped his momentum. Then he launched himself back at Nuar.

Craig’s shoulder struck Nuar’s chest. The impact knocked Nuar through a grouping of plants. Their leaves shredded as he flailed his arms to keep his balance.

He shifted his weight and was just about to launch himself forward when something flicked the back of his head. He turned to see the female standing behind him. Her eyebrows were high on her forehead as she stared at her weapon. It had broken off on one end. She glanced at the ground, where the top half lay.

Had she just broken that over his head?

Nuar laughed. “What a fierce little female you are. But this doesn’t concern you.”

“Don’t call me little,” she said, her voice low and strong. “My name is Lian.”

An odd frisson of pleasure swept down his spine.

“And this absolutely concerns me,” Lian continued. “You’re destroying my greenhouse.”

“What’s a green—”

Before he could finish his question, Craig crashed into Nuar’s side and sent him flying. Nuar hit one of the pillars of metal generating the interlacing energy fields above them. The energy field let out a brief fizz of static, but the pillar held. Nuar bounced off of it and landed on his back in a pile of soft, flowering greenery.

“I win,” Craig yelled. “That’s five times I sent you to the ground.”

Nuar flipped to his feet. “That was four. We’ve only tied.”

Craig started counting with his fingers. “I knocked you to the ground on the sidewalk, the car, the table in front of the coffee shop across the street—”

“The car doesn’t count,” Nuar said. “Slamming me down on a vehicle is not the same as taking me to the ground.”

“It is the same,” Craig yelled.

“Listen, you—” Nuar cut off his sentence as something bounced off the back of his head. He glanced down to see the other half of Lian’s weapon at his feet. Apparently, she’d thrown it at him.

“A game?” she cried. “This was a game?”

Some of the color leached from Craig’s face. “I can explain,” he said.

While Craig was distracted, Nuar made his move. He sprang forward, grabbing the Lyrian under his lower set of arms and lifting Craig above his head.

“Now, we will have a true victor,” Nuar shouted. He turned away from Lian to keep her safe and threw Craig across the space.

“Not the bench!” she shrieked.

The anguish in her voice tore at Nuar’s soul. Nuar might have been able to use his wristbands to alter Craig’s path, but there was no time.

Craig’s momentum carried him straight toward a bench nestled among some plants. The bench shattered from the impact, breaking into splinters that flew through the air. The Lyrian’s arms hit the plants surrounding it, crushing them.

No one moved. Craig remained lying in the debris, his eyes wide as he stared at Lian. The only sound was her harsh breathing and the creaking of one of the pots hanging behind her as it swung lop-sided from a single surviving chain attached to the support structure above.

“Um…” Craig said. “I’m here to pick up Ellie.”

Nuar watched intently as Lian turned and walked to a door that led to a connected building. She pulled it open and stood to one side.

A large creature walked out with a baby Lyrian riding it. The mount was covered in shaggy fur, had long ears on the sides of its head, and its lips hung down past its chin. Its back was reddish and its legs and belly white. Another line of white fur ran between its eyes and all around its mouth, contrasting with its dark nose.

It let out a deep, “Woof!” as it walked toward Craig.

The Lyrian infant on its back held on to tufts of the creature’s fur with her hands and feet. The tentacles where her lower arms would eventually grow waved in the air as she laughed. She looked happier than Nuar thought he’d ever seen a life form.

It only made the misery and rage on Lian’s face more noticeable.

“Ellie.” Craig picked up his daughter and cradled her against his chest. “There’s my little nestling.”

Ellie smiled at first, but then started fidgeting, trying to get back to her mount. One of her tentacles kept smacking Craig in the face as she reached toward the beast.

“Ed,” Lian said. “Go inside.”

The creature glanced up at Nuar and sniffed the air, then turned and headed back into the building.

Another awkward silence descended, though this time, the main sound was the unhappy grunts of the Lyrian nestling.

“About the greenhouse,” Craig said.

“What about the greenhouse, Craig?” Lian crossed her arms over her chest and glared at him.

The last chain supporting the hanging container behind her snapped. The pot hit the ground and shattered, dirt exploding out from it and parts of the plant within making an ominous crunch.

Lian closed her eyes and took a deep breath. When she opened her eyes again, they glimmered strangely. The sight caused a dull ache to radiate from Nuar’s hearts through his torso.

“You need to take Ellie home.” Lian’s voice was even lower than it had been before. “When she is safely with Barbara, you will come back here so I can kick your ass properly.”

“Lian—” Craig said.

Lian held up a finger and cocked her head to the side, not looking at him. “I’m going to count to five. Then I start using words you do not want your baby girl to hear. You get me?”

“I do,” Craig said. “And I’m sorry. We were carried away and—”

“One. Two.” Lian’s voice rose with each number as she counted, ticking them off with a finger. “Three.”

Speaking so quickly that his words blurred together, Craig said, “And I’ll be back as soon as possible to help clean up this mess.” He bolted out onto the sidewalk and disappeared from view.

Had the Lyrian actually been afraid of this small sentient? Nuar could hardly believe it. And yet, she seemed to be having a strange influence on Nuar himself.

Lian bowed her head, her hair forming a screen that hid most of her face from view. She let her arm drop back to her side. Both of her hands were curled into fists.

Nuar had no idea what to do. He glanced around at the disturbed earth and the green leaves and colorful petals strewn about.

“I suppose I should be going as well,” Nuar said.

Lian’s head snapped up, her gaze boring into him. “Oh, you should? Really? You do all of this—” she gestured broadly, taking in the devastation around her— “and then decide it’s time to just take off. Maybe have a lovely afternoon stroll. Is that it?”

“I have no idea how to address this,” Nuar said.

“So, you’re just going to run away?”

He snarled, his spine plates rising and vibrating. He felt the thin fabric of his Earth clothing stretch. A wave of warning sound rippled out from him, resonating with the metal supports and letting out a high chime.

Lian didn’t back down. Her eyes widened, and her lips parted—why could he not seem to look away from them? But then she snapped her mouth shut and redoubled her glare. The challenge she presented was irresistible.

Nuar stalked toward her, stopping when they stood close. “I am from a planet where everything is made of stone and crystal. How was I supposed to know how delicate everything on Earth is?”

“Delicate?” she gasped. “How’s this for delicate, you jackass!”

Lian pulled her fist back, then smashed it into his cheek. Her eyes widened and her mouth dropped open. The anger in her expression turned to pain.

“Ffff..farfegnugen!” she shouted.

Nuar was pretty sure his translation session was off on that one. He didn’t need to understand her words to know she was still enraged.

“My presence here is only upsetting you more,” he said. “I should go.”

But as he thought about it, he didn’t want to leave. Which was strange, because he should.

“I can ask the other Cygnian warriors for assistance,” he said. “I don’t know where to begin—”

“You start by saying you’re sorry,” she yelled.

She shook her hand. Her eyebrows rose and her mouth dropped open.

“Ow ow ow ow…” She brought her hand close to her chest, curling around it protectively.

“You’re injured.”

“Duh,” she yelled. “You didn’t tell me that you also are made of stone and crystal, you jerk.”

“I’m not. But the intense gravity and radiation of our home system has made our skin and tissues evolve to be extremely dense.”

“I have news for you—that’s not all that’s dense about you.”

A growl built in his chest, but he was able to keep it low enough she wouldn’t hear. At least, she shouldn’t have been able to hear it. She stiffened and eyed him even more warily.

“Let me see your hand,” he said.

“No.”

If saying he was sorry was the beginning of reparations for this, then perhaps Earthlings put a high value on words. He thought back over his cultural training sessions, looking for a word that could help.

“Please,” he said.

She scowled at him.

Perhaps a little more convincing was needed. He felt his spine plates lower as he forced his voice to be calm.

“I’m a medic, remember?” he said. “Now let me see.”

“Fine, but only because it really hurts.” She was still glaring, but she slowly extended her hand.

Nuar lifted his arms and struck his wristbands together. The metal let out a sharp clang. The vibration continued as he activated their scanning function. He held his arms on either side of her hand, rotating them so that he could get a complete view of her physiology.

“What the hell are you doing?” she asked.

If he wasn’t mistaken, there was a hint of curiosity in her voice. At the very least, she didn’t sound as angry.

“I’m scanning you.” He hummed a new note, and a three-dimensional holographic display of her arm appeared a few inches above it. He let out a surprised gasp. “Your hand is broken in three places.”

The lines of the fractures were illuminated in bright white light.

“What a surprise.” Lian started to pull back.

“Hold still.”

She glared at him.

“Please,” he said, trying to make his voice gentler. “For just a few moments.”

Her eyebrows lowered, but she slowly moved her hand back to where it had been.

“How hard did you hit me?” he asked, more to distract her while he worked than anything else.

“As hard as I could,” she said.

He chuckled. It was rare that he was able to treat such an injury. He knew the basics of fixing broken bones, but for a Cygnian to suffer an injury like this… He couldn’t think of a scenario that would cause it.

His bracers cast light on her hand, the wavelength providing healing radiation that penetrated to her bones. At the same time, they sent a vibration to activate and accelerate her body’s own healing potential.

“What is that?” she said, and this time, he was certain her voice was laced with curiosity.

“It’s a healing field. Cygnian technology is founded on light and vibration. Much of it is in spectra and bandwidths you can’t perceive, but they have an impact on your physiology.”

“That’s amazing.” She carefully extended her fingers. “It doesn’t hurt at all anymore.”

Her scowl softened into a smile as she stared at her hand, testing out more movement. The sight of that slight smile made his hearts beat more strongly. Something in his chest coiled tight, as if readying itself for action. But what?

The healing complete, he deactivated his wristbands and let his arms drop to his sides.

“See?” he said. “I’m not such a bad guy after all.”

The ghost of her smile vanished instantly. Her gaze snapped back to his as she scowled.

“I would go with, ‘Not so inept at fixing the messes he causes,’” she said.

He stepped closer, intent on… He wasn’t quite sure. Before he could say anything, someone cleared their throat nearby.

“Sorry,” the male said. “I was just checking to make sure everyone is okay. Ed came back in without Ellie.”

“Ellie went home with Craig.” There was an edge to Lian’s voice, as if she didn’t like the male very much.

“What happened out here?” he asked, looking around. “Do you need help?”

Nuar’s spine plates rose. This male didn’t need to help Lian. Nuar would do it.

As soon as he figured out how.

“This is none of your concern and your assistance is not required,” Nuar said.

Lian turned back to him and started jabbing Nuar in the chest as she spoke. “Gary lives in Harbor and this is his library and his community greenhouse so it is absolutely his concern.”

She poked Nuar one last time when she was done speaking, her brow furrowed.

“Well, I am the one who made this mess and so I will figure out how to fix it,” Nuar said, poking her chest just as she’d done to him.

Her eyes widened and her mouth dropped open on a gasp. Then, amazingly, her glare intensified further as she pulled her hand back to hit him. Again.

This time, he saw it coming and was able to catch her wrist before impact. His spine plates vibrated and he pulled her closer, so that her body was almost touching his. Waves of sensation coated his skin, resonating deep within him.

That glare of hers. It could melt the iciest comet. He wanted to reach up and touch her, to run his fingers along her cheek. He wanted to lay her down upon the soft ground and…claim her.

Claim her as his.

Holding onto her, the warmth of her skin, the beating of her pulse beneath his hand, intensified the feeling. Pressure shifted in his chest. His hearts seemed to be fighting against each other with their alternating beats, each pounding faster and faster until they joined with hers—in unison.

For the first time in his life, his hearts beat as one.